Cage Match 2010, Round 1: 3) Aslan versus 30) Eragon

The dirt path was like many in Du Weldenvarden–wide enough for a cart and not much else. A giant cat sat in the middle of it, having patiently waited for a day, ignoring the various birds and animals of the forest whose curiosity at the foreign beast overcame caution. It possessed a velvety coat of beaten gold, his mane thick and groomed. Radiant authority shone from it, while claws like curved daggers kneaded the dirt of the trail occasionally. Anyone could feel that the lion possessed great power, enough so that it seemed clear it could overcome the magic the Ellesméra Elves used to keep unwanted travelers from their forest home.

The dense brush on each side of the path prevented ease of travel and the young man would have no choice but to meet the grand beast.

When the youth saw the lion, he stopped, hand on his sword.

“Greetings to you, on this warm, beautiful day,” the lion said.

The young man appeared shocked.

“You speak?”

“As do you, Eragon Bromsson,” the lion said. “Despite your penchant for stating the obvious, of course.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Ah, and your other penchant: asking numerous questions,” the lion rumbled, amused. “I am Aslan, the son of the Emperor-Over-the-Sea. I come from far across your western ocean, where your Elves hail. I know a great deal about you. Most everyone does, I suppose.”

“A nice day to you, Aslan, but I have… matters I must attend to.”

Aslan stared hard at Eragon, all aspects of pleasantness gone. Even from the branches of her tree, the dryad could feel the lion’s anger rising. Eragon withstood the gaze, his back straight and demeanor proud.

Neither backed down.

“Brom taught you better manners than these you display.”

“He always said there is a reason why we are born with brains, not rocks,” Eragon said, his voice steady. “I apologize for any transgression you may feel I visited upon you. Now, may I pass? I’m late for further Elven training.”

“Your father also said you were possessed of ‘one part brave, three parts fool.’ I see the three parts right now.”

Eragon frowned. “You know far too much about me.”

“Indeed,” Aslan said. “This path leads to damnation, not training. It is a path toward paganism. I must protect you from it.”

“Move aside.”

“You attempt a fool’s errand,” the lion said. “I have witnessed similar moments in the past. Mankind is ripe with them. Across the sea there have been many who misunderstand me. Jadis. Edmund. Rabadash. Miraz. Eustace. Rilian. All discover the truth. All look upon the brilliance of the eastern star. Wars, once begun, damage the Deep Magic. Empires have fallen; empires have struck back. Return to your home. Let my wisdom guide you. You do not comprehend what you do, or the gravity of the situation.”

“I have no choice,” Eragon said. “I must keep Alagaesia safe!”

“You always have a choice, young man.”

“This is Brisingr,” Eragon said, unsheathing the sword. “Move aside. Now.”

The lion did not look concerned. “I am protecting you only from yourself.”

“Very well then,” Eragon said, charging.

Aslan sat in the path, unmoving.

Brisingr entered the lion’s chest.

The lion did not make a sound. He simply lay over on his side, the faintest hope of a roar in his last few moments. The eyes peered up at the sky, as if seeking something. Then their brightness dimmed.

The eyes closed one final time.

“I am sorry, Aslan,” Eragon said. “Time is of the essence.”

The young man wiped his blade clean, sheathed Brisingr, stepped around the carcass of the dead lion, and continued on his way.

Several bends in the trail later, Eragon came to an abrupt halt.

Aslan sat in the path once again, magnificent and unharmed.

“You are set on destroying yourself, Eragon Bromsson?”

“What kind of devil are you?”

Aslan laughed deeply, but anger infused it.

“I am part of a Deeper Magic,” Aslan said. “I am not a tame lion. I am gentle and loving, but dangerous and powerful when need arises. I protect others when they cannot protect their own souls.” The great lion paused. “I only turn my cheek once, Eragon Bromsson. Once. For you to take my life again would be an evil. It would undo you.”

“I have slain shades, Elves, and dwarves. What makes you different?”

“I am,” Aslan said simply.

Eragon looked confused, but his puzzlement quickly gave way to rash anger. The youth attacked the lion again, this time with magic, everything from the Ancient Language to spells to fairths. It availed him nothing. The great beast could not be defeated by any means that Eragon possessed.

Aslan accepted the abuse for a few seconds–then leapt.

Eragon vanished beneath rippling muscle and sharp claws.

When Aslan sat back quietly, the dryad looked away from the crimson carnage.

Eragon was dead.

“We shall meet again, young Eragon, over the Silver Sea, where the laws of Deep Magic and Deeper Magic shall be yours to learn one day.”

Aslan strolled away and vanished through the massive trees of Du Weldenvarden.

Predicted Winner: Aslan (Because He is God)

(Aslan is a character from C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia; Eragon is a character from Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance cycle.)